


Taste

by hershpa



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, M/M, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hershpa/pseuds/hershpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal spoon-feeding a blindfolded Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by amarriageoftrueminds on tumblr. Very short, I'll probably write more for it later. Warning for limited culinary knowledge and poor descriptions of food. Also, keep in mind that I wrote this at 1 am so high on nyquil I don't even remember writing it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Will’s already nervous, fidgety with effort to keep himself seated. He isn’t bound, he reminds himself. He’s sitting in this frame chair in Hannibal’s kitchen completely by choice.

“You should relax, Will. We aim only to try your palate. Nothing more. You are safe here.”

Will knows that, but he can’t find it in himself to relax. He can’t see. He’s blinded by a strip of fabric and he can’t see and while he consciously knows he’s not in any danger, his body seems to think it should be running. His instincts scream at him to escape. He never knew voluntary blindness could induce such physical panic.

“You are free to put an end to this if you become too uncomfortable, Will, remember that,” Hannibal says, and he hears it louder than Hannibal says it. His ears trying to make up for his eyes, he imagines. “Just say the word and we stop.”

Free to stop. Not bound. Nothing is keeping him here. He’s here by his own choice. He’s fine.

“You know, Dr. Lecter,” Will starts, then pauses and his lips quirk, “When you suggested I wear a blindfold next time we met, this isn’t what I thought you had in mind.”

Will can’t see it, but he thinks he can hear Hannibal’s smile.

“And yet you didn’t refuse. Here I thought you would be _more_ comfortable with a more savory approach.”

Will chuckles. “If this is so jarring, then I hate to think what anything more would be like.”

Hannibal doesn’t answer, but Will can hear him move closer.

“You must understand, Will. Food can be just as intimate as sex. Often it is more.”

“I’m beginning to see that.”

He can’t see or hear Hannibal’s smile, but he thinks it must be there.

Will listens to Hannibal move about for a while, tries to discern which burner he’s using by the sound of its hiss and the scrape of the pan. The kitchen falls quiet shortly, and he hears Hannibal come towards him again. He stops this time just in front of Will. Will can’t tell if Hannibal is standing or kneeling, but he can hear the rustle of expensive fabric and the clink of a spoon on a dish just before him.

“I’ve prepared something simple, so not to overwhelm your senses,” Hannibal says.

“Of course,” Will replies. His hands are shaking.

“Beef liver pâté with truffle oil, and French onion soup.”

Will only nods.

“Open your mouth.”

Will does, and he anticipates the spoon when it touches his tongue, but he still jumps just as he closes his lips around it.

“Will,” Hannibal scolds.

Will swallows, doesn’t savor, and mutters, “Sorry.”

“Relax,” Hannibal says. He draws the word out, his voice low. “Enjoy the flavor and pay attention to the texture. Let it replace your sight. It will come easily to you if you let it. You’re thinking far too much.”

“Yes,” Will nods, and in a gesture of cooperation, opens his mouth again.

Again, he can’t see it, but he’s sure Hannibal smiles.

He doesn’t startle this time when Hannibal slips the spoon past his lips. He takes the soup from it and lets it sit on his tongue a moment before he swallows. He appreciates the notes of flavor, the layers of sweet and savory. He understands now, why the blindfold. It makes the taste far more immediate, like it’s the only sense he has. He’s still shaking.

“Good. Very good, Will,” Hannibal praises him and Will keeps himself still as he can manage. “Another bite?”

Will opens his mouth.

This time, he’s surprised to taste a square of tender meat and he chews it slowly. It really is delicious. He says as much.

“Thank you,” Hannibal replies and feeds Will another piece. “Butchered only a day ago. Perhaps the best cut of liver I’ve had the pleasure to cook in quite some time.”

Will chews and swallows before he cocks his head.

“Why waste it on me, then?”

“I do not consider this a waste, Will.”

He feeds Will another bite. Will savors it before he responds.

“I don’t share your impeccable taste, Doctor.”

“That is no matter. Anyone can appreciate good food. And I certainly appreciate this experience well enough.”

Will can’t decide how to respond to that. He sits in silence for a moment.

He only opens his mouth in answer.

He’s stopped shaking.

“You’re doing very well,” Hannibal says, and gives him another bite.

Will can hear the smile on his voice.


End file.
